


On the Road

by kurage_hime



Category: Original Work
Genre: Androids, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurage_hime/pseuds/kurage_hime
Summary: Cupper discovers a most unusual bit of sentient trash hitchhiking in the trailer of his truck. He looks like a little boy, and he says his name is Jace.





	On the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antheeia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antheeia/gifts).



“How much longer, you reckon?”

Cupper shrugged but kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road ahead. “Five days, give or take. Depending on the weather.”

In wintertime, white-out conditions could stop a truck dead in its tracks, and a blizzard could snow you in indefinitely. Then, if your heater ran down the battery before the sun came out again, you could take your chances out there on foot, or you could die of exposure in your cab seat. Neither were enviable positions to be in.

This wasn’t winter, though. _This_ was high hurricane season. Category 5s and above were rare this far inland from the coast, but they could still bring in plenty of rain, which slowed you down, and the flash-flooding and the mudslides too, both of which could ruin a longhaul trucker’s day if he happened to be at the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.

Jace’s question wasn’t really about the weather, although Cupper was pretending to misunderstand his meaning. Thing was, Cupper didn’t really know how to answer the actual question…or maybe he just hadn’t decided yet.

“Oh,” Jace said as he sank back into the threadbare cushion of the passenger seat. He said nothing further till after nightfall.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t normally make them look this young. Best Cupper could figure, the little boy must’ve been a custom job.

He’d found Jace hiding in the tech scrap he was hauling to Trash Island. He hadn’t tripped the sensors, as hitchhikers normally would have done, since he was technically scrap himself – albeit in somewhat better nick than average. A very rare commodity and probably very valuable to the right somebody. Also, very, very illegal, which could help to explain why Jace had been in the trash in the first place.

It didn’t, however, explain why Jace’s former owner hadn’t bothered to turn him off first. On the other hand, he would’ve been hard to turn off without the original key, and keys did have a lamentable tendency to go missing when you least wanted them to. (Just ask anybody in possession of a motor vehicle.)

Besides, lifeform androids and large vehicular AIs such as driverless trucks had been outlawed over 70 years ago, and hardly anyone alive knew how to repair and service the damn stuff anymore, never mind cut them new keys. And forget about building them from scratch! Cupper had never seen one that wasn’t so many useless spare parts.

So, he’d been curious. It was only natural. He told himself it didn’t matter whether the android was in the trailer or the cab, since Jace would be heading inexorably towards his final destination one way or the other.

 

* * *

 

“What’s your name?” Cupper had asked. It had, quite reasonably, been his first question.

“My name is Jace,” the android called Jace had replied. “What’s yours?”

“Cupper.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Cupper.”

Next, he’d asked what Jace had been made for. He’d figured the answer would have something to do with a bereaved parent, too much money, and not nearly enough sense. There’d been a movie about that, Cupper thought, a long, long time ago, and contemporary life sure did imitate vintage sci-fi.

Cupper had been so shocked by Jace’s actual answer that he never did get around to asking his third – obvious – followup question: Why had Jace’s owner wanted to get rid of his sexbot?

 

* * *

 

Most of the towns along Cupper’s route were depopulated, and even the hospitality of your average fleabag roadside motels could be in short supply with no one to staff them. You could forget about prostitutes.

The cab was a sleeper, thankfully, and its narrow bunk was designed for a single, full-grown male trucker. It also, as it turned out, accommodated one full-grown male trucker and one hitchhiking little boy android who was designed to be used as a sexbot.

Cupper wasn’t sure why this was happening. He wasn’t into little boys. But whatever the reason, he was definitely letting it happen. He was letting _Jace_ happen.

Jace was a receptive partner primarily, beautifully submissive, and he took Cupper up the ass like he was born for it (which, you know, he kinda sorta _was_ ). He was hot and cunt-wet and tight, and he knew how to massage the length of Cupper’s shaft like a pro. Cupper liked watching Jace’s round, cherubic face contort with seeming pleasure at each thrust while his lithe torso writhed and his cute little cock throbbed and spat out its little load of clear, slick fluid onto his belly. That was a nice touch, courtesy of some innovative designer or other.

“I love you,” Jace murmured. That too was a nice touch. Cupper wondered whether or not the programming meant Jace actually felt something like love during lovemaking. Either way, the verisimilitude was sublime.

The blowjobs were sublime as well, and Jace deep-throated Cupper like he was starving for cock. The clever tongue on the underside of his crown was maddening, and it made Cupper lose control utterly. Actual tears seeped out of the corners of Jace’s eyes as Cupper pistoned in and out of his mouth, and yet Jace breathed not a word of protest. He was an android; he didn’t need to breathe, period. Of course he always swallowed Cupper’s giant loads of come like a champ.

After their first night in the cab, Cupper started tentatively reciprocating with some affection. Kissing Jace was easy – like kissing a woman, and the pert nipples were perfect for licking and nipping. Even the cute little cock fit perfectly in Cupper’s mouth, tasting clean and sweet and paradoxically innocent. Not like tech scrap at all. Cupper hung onto Jace’s narrow hips with his big hands while he bucked and shrieked through his orgasm, completely under Cupper’s control.

“I love you,” Jace said afterwards. It was becoming a habit.

“I love you too,” Cupper replied. Words were just words. Why not?

Fucking Jace was a bit like driving his truck, really – he felt like he was behind the wheel and in control of his own destiny. He liked that about Jace. He liked that a lot.

 

* * *

 

Finally, Cupper found the courage to ask. He asked the question casually and kept his eyes on the road. “How’d you end up in the trash?”

Jace was sitting in the passenger seat, knees pulled up against his chest. He too watched the road intently. He looked very small and frail like that. “My owner died,” he replied flatly.

“Oh.”

“He was old. It was time.” Well, at least Jace spared Cupper the awkwardness of asking _how_. Jace was a lot older than he looked. “It didn’t seem right to outlive my purpose.”

“Oh.” Cupper shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What was he, chopped meat?! Then again, he’d never made his intentions clear to Jace. He’d never made them clear to _himself_. Did he really mean to keep an illegal android? Was this sexbot worth the trouble?

_You know what? Maybe he was. Maybe he was indeed._

“How much longer, you reckon?”

Cupper considered his response carefully.


End file.
